


In Sickness and in Health

by MaddieandChimney



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:21:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24508354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddieandChimney/pseuds/MaddieandChimney
Summary: A collection of sick!fic drabbles and one-shots for Madney and Buckley Siblings.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Maddie Buckley, Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10
Collections: Madney One-Shots, The Buckley Siblings One Shots





	1. Cranky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Cranky sickie.

Chimney can’t help but sigh as he looks over at his extremely miserable girlfriend, curled up on the couch with re-runs if Brooklyn 99 playing (and she’s not laughing so he knows she’s definitely sick). He doesn’t know if he dare go over with the soup in fear his head might get bitten off (again).

“Maddie, I got your soup…” He tries to make his voice as soothing as possible, in the hopes that maybe in the last five minutes she’s had a drastic personality change. Instead, he’s met with a huff as she drags the blanket up over her head and tells him to leave her alone. “You promised me you’d have some..” Chimney is quick to remind her as he sets the bowl down on the side.

“Changed my mind.”

It takes everything in him not to let out his own frustrated sigh, instead, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closes his eyes and takes a long, deep breath. “You have to eat something, Madeline or you’re going to feel even worse.”

“Fuck you, Howard.”

He almost flinches at the scathing words, surprised that they came out of his girlfriends mouth before he shrugs them off and sinks down onto the couch. He tries not to be offended when he places his hand on her shoulder only for her to quickly shrug him off, it still hurts that she won’t let him touch her. Buck had warned him, before he had left the firehouse early having been called by Josh (not his girlfriend, he was quick to point out to his friends and then to her when he walked into the apartment… not the greatest start), telling him that he had just dropped Maddie off home as she was sick.

“Wow, you are really not a good patient, are you?” The question doesn’t need to be answered but he can’t help the bemused smile on his face when she pulls the blanket away from her face to glare at him.

“I’m not sick. To be a patient, I would have to be sick but I am not sick. I am…” She’s cut off and he anticipates her next move just in time to throw the bucket he had retrieved for her earlier (also when she insisted she was not sick), under her chin. His hand hovers over her back, but he knows better after she almost bit his head off the last time he tried to comfort her. “… fine. I’m fine.” He watches as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, finishing the sentence as though nothing had happened.

“You have a temperature that’s borderline worthy of taking you to the ER, you’re throwing up, you’re beyond pale and you’re shaking, Maddie. I don’t think you’re fine.”

She pouts, but he can tell by the way she’s leaning a little closer to him that she’s about to give in to what she really wants. “I don’t want soup.”

“Fine. But you’ll have to eat something soon.” He knows it’s best to relent at that point, because she’s so close to resting her head on his shoulder and he can see how desperate she is to sleep.

“Maybe.” It’s hesitant and she’s not happy about it but she finally snuggles into his side and he darent wrap an arm around her just in case. Instead, he stares at the television, trying to ignore any instinct he has to just take her in his arms. Until she huffs once more, “Arent you going to hold me?”

His arms move to wrap around her before his mind can even register the fact that she’s spoken, “Just gonna sleep, no fussing.” He sighs and lets his hand gently rub her back when her eyes fall to a close, “no touching either. Just hold me.”

“So demanding.”


	2. Sharing is Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Sharing is caring." "Not sickness!"

His nose is red, there’s a pile of tissues next to the bed, and he keeps erupting into coughing fits every few minutes. It’s not in the slightest bit sexy, or appealing, but it’s not stopping his hands from wandering. When his lips are on her neck, she can’t help but scrunch her nose up, biting down on her lip to suppress the moan but also to stop herself from pushing him away (she loves him, she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings, but she also doesn’t fancy sharing his germs).

“Howie.” She warns, definitely unable to stop the moan when his hands have found their way down her pyjama shorts, and his teeth sink down onto her shoulder gently. “N-no, you’re sick…” Her hand moves to his forearm, gently trying to push him off of her – it’s a pathetic attempt if she’s honest with herself because his fingers are rubbing against her and she can’t think.

“Sharing is caring.” Is his only response, mumbled against her skin as he moves easily to lay on top of her, only to pull back to cover his mouth with the hand that isn’t touching her, the coughing fit is most definitely not setting the mood but it doesn’t stop him from pressing his lips against her collarbone when it passes.

She can’t help but laugh, hating that her body is so easily reacting to his touches, when her mind is telling her to push him away, “Not sickness!” Although, it is just a cold, she considers briefly, she could do with a few duvet days if it meant he was there with her.

“Mm, it’ll be worth it, I promise. I’m going to rock your world, baby. You’ll see.” He grins at her, easily pushing a finger inside her, “See? You’re ready for me already. This is a win-win situation.” He’s only slightly delirious from all the drugs he’s been consuming in an attempt to get over the cold as quickly as he possibly can. And she’s only slightly annoyed by the fact she can’t seem to control the way her hips lift up, begging him for more, and his name so easily slips from her lips.

She only regrets it two days later when she’s curled up on the couch with a bowl of chicken soup as he shouts goodbye from the doorway, a (only slightly sympathetic) grin on his face, only shutting the door behind him in time to avoid the book she’s thrown his way.


	3. Just a Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "It's just a headache."

It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of Maddie’s glare, but when he puts his head on her forehead for the fifth time that day, he finds her narrowed eyes fixated on him before she aggressively shoves his arm away. “It’s just a headache.”

She snaps at him, she’s been incredibly patient up until that point, just wanting him to stop fussing over her. She had woken up with a pounding in her head which was hardly surprising considering the extremely long almost forty-eight hour shift she had put in at the dispatch centre following on the latest LA earthquake. She had been exhausted enough to sleep for twelve hours, only to wake up in a bad mood and in pain with Chimney hovering over her constantly.

If it wasn’t asking her if she wanted something to eat or drink, he was checking her temperature, and if he wasn’t doing either of those things, he was asking her if she was okay or if she wanted him to run her a hot bath or if she wanted him to tuck her into bed. He was exhausting her and only making the pounding in her head worse.

“I’m just trying to help.” She can’t help but roll her eyes when she speaks – bad move, the movement only makes it hurt more – because she _knows_ he means no harm and she knows when he’s sick (when he actually admits it) he gets extremely clingy and wants her attention. But she’s not used to it, she’s used to brushing it under the rug because sickness meant weakness in the Kendall household. Sickness meant his dinner wouldn’t be on the table when he got home from work, it meant she didn’t look perfect. And he only liked it when everything was perfect. It’s just a headache, she reminds herself, but suddenly she realises why she’s been acting grouchy all day.

She shifts uncomfortably on the couch, not willing to actually admit out loud that maybe, just maybe, she could file being sick under the long list of things she found more than a little triggering. Memories of Doug flooding her mind, as she remembers when he dragged her from the bed by her hair because she couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed herself, following a particularly nasty bug going around the hospital. Sickness is weakness and weakness isn’t perfect. She can hear his voice echoing over and over again in her head and she hates herself for letting him back in. He’s been dead over a year and there she is, still thinking about him.

“I don’t need help. It’s just a headache.” She finds herself saying anyway, because no matter what she tells herself, the thought of someone wanting to take care of her is too foreign. She had fallen for it one too many times when Doug would affectionately run a wet wash cloth over her face when she was sick, only to slap her the moment she let her guard down.

Chimney only sighs, knowing better than to snap back at her, also knowing he had been a little _too_ much because he hated when anyone he loved was feeling even slightly under the weather. “Fine… but if you need anything…”

The sadness in his voice is enough for her to feel a twinge of guilt, sniffing as she reaches for his hand, “Just sit here next to me, no worrying or fussing please? It really is just a headache, I promise.”

“I can do that.”


End file.
